


so many reasons (it's my favourite season)

by juliansweigl



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: M/M, Merry Christmas, mats is clumsy, will i ever write a friendship that isn't thomats?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 13:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17142278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliansweigl/pseuds/juliansweigl
Summary: “I did this to shut you up!” Thomas exclaims, arms thrown out wide – narrowly missing the teenager skating past at the same moment. “I did this because I’m the best friend that you’ll ever have and also I want to see you fall on your ass.”





	so many reasons (it's my favourite season)

**Author's Note:**

> merry christmas!! I genuinely didn't think I'd have time to finish this because christmas eve has been literal hell and I've been super busy but I did it!! I hope you enjoy it and have the best Christmas ever (if you celebrate it of course)

_It’s cold._

 

That is Mats’ initial thought as he’s being pulled through an array of stalls decorated in green and red, garlands hanging and music playing through an old and tinny-sounding set of speakers. Mats tries to resist but Thomas’ hand on his bicep just tightens as his best friend pulls him through the Christmas markets, unapologetically bumping into various people (including quite a few children whose parents don’t hesitate to glare at the friends). Thomas is muttering something incoherent, reaching up to pull the beanie on his head further down, squashing his curls unattractively against his forehead. Thomas has a sense of determination on his face as they manoeuvre through various stalls, he’s looking for something _or_ rather someone – Mats wonders if it’s the same guy they’ve seen over the last five days they’ve ventured out to the markets (to drink _mainly_ ).

 

“ _Mull_.” Mats grumbles through gritted teeth as he plants his heels into the light dusting of snow and comes to abrupt halt causing Thomas to stumble and for his hand to fall from Mats’ arm as he frantically scrambles to avoid falling. “The only reason I left the flat today is because you promised me beer and my hands are fucking empty.” Mats groans as he shows his hands to emphasize the fact that he doesn’t have a beer yet and they’ve been out in the sub-zero temperatures for bordering on an hour.

 

Thomas spins around so quickly that for a second Mats thinks he’s going to go sliding on the icy ground and land on his ass – it wouldn’t be the first time.

 

“If I buy you a beer will you shut up?”

 

Mats grins. “Lead the way.”

 

Thomas rolls his eyes but slows down his pace as they walk to the nearest bar at the markets – it’s not that long of a walk, there are more bars than anything else located in the market. The Christmas music doesn’t cease, it gets louder and more out of sync in different areas but amongst the chatter of shoppers it doesn’t sound quite as bad. Mats leans against one of the tables, smirking at Thomas when he grumbles because of the long line waiting to be served.

 

Looking around, various families are rushing around, shouting over each other as mothers tighten their children’s scarves around their necks, men rushing around with panic-stricken expressions on their faces – cursing themselves for leaving their Christmas shopping to the last minute (as usual – Mats knows the feeling, he’s your typical _I-haven’t-done-my-Christmas-shopping-and-now-it’s-Christmas-Eve-and-I’m-going-to-have-to-spend-all-day-in-long-lines-because-I’m-a-dumbass_ Christmas shopper). Mats still has a good three days before he _absolutely_ has to start his Christmas shopping and that’s good enough for him, he can relax and let himself be dragged around like a ragdoll by Thomas all because of some guy neither of them know the name of.

 

The beer thrust into Mats’ hand spills a little over the edge causing Mats to glare at his best friend as he wraps his hand around the cold plastic of the cup, the tips of his fingers tingling with the freezing cold weather and light snowfall that’s masking the evening sky.

 

“You’re fucking mad, you know that?” Mats huffs out, taking a sip of beer and wrapping the scarf around his neck up higher so that’s resting against his chin. “You don’t even know if he’s here – _and also_ – it’s kind of stalker-ish.”

 

Thomas doesn’t reply but the corners of his lips twitch amusedly as he tilts his head to the side to look at Mats. “You’re calling _me_ a stalker when you once completely changed your regular coffee shop for one that’s nearly an hour away from campus just because _I saw a hot guy go in there once_.” Thomas reminds him, smirking at the wide eyes and flushed cheeks of his best friend.

 

“Point taken.” Mats mutters as he brings the beer back to his lips.

 

One beer turns into two which turns into three and Mats suddenly has the best (worst) idea in the world. Thomas is in a slight daze as he hums along to whichever Christmas song in playing at that precise moment when Mats stumbles, slipping over a slate of ice before pointing at the ice rink located at the opposite end of the markets.

 

“We should go.”

 

“That’s a terrible fucking idea.” Thomas grumbles, eyes flickering between the ice skating rink and the pathetic attempt of puppy dog eyes that his best friend is sending him. “Have you seen yourself try and skate? The last time we went you nearly snapped your arm in two.”

 

Mats visibly shudders at the memory, his arm automatically starting to ache. Still, his expression doesn’t fade and he continues to list ridiculous reasons as to why ice skating is not the worst idea in the world.

 

“I don’t care what you say – ice skating is not a _Christmas tradition_.” Thomas deadpans as he crosses his arms over his chest.

 

“You’re like Scrooge, if Scrooge had run over all of Santa’s reindeers and knocked Santa out on Christmas Eve before he’s managed to deliver all of his presents to the children – so good job, Thomas. You ruined Christmas.” Mats trails off into a strangled, incoherent mumbling of something that Thomas _really_ doesn’t want to be able to understand.

 

“Mats!” Thomas screeches as his eyes flicker down to a young boy and girl who couldn’t be older than eight gaping up at the pair of them with wide eyes and heartbroken (but slightly frightened) expressions on their faces. “I’m sorry.” Thomas smiles sheepishly as an older woman comes up behind the children and glares at both Thomas and Mats.

 

Mats drops his gaze and doesn’t lift his head until Thomas pulls him away. It’s only when they’re out of earshot of _any_ more children do they both start to laugh, Mats leaning against Thomas for support.

 

“What the fuck did you just do?!” Thomas cackles loudly as the terrified looks on the children’s faces race through his mind causing him to just laugh harder instead of feeling bad (which he did, for a second). “I think you just scarred those kids for life.”

 

Mats covers his face with his hands, his shoulders shaking with mirth. “ _Scrooge running over Santa’s reindeers and knocking Santa out on Christmas Eve_ – that wasn’t in the stories.”

 

“We’re going ice skating; I just need you to concentrate on anything else than your unfiltered thoughts and inability to not talk shit.” Thomas grins as he slings his arm around Mats’ shoulders and pulls him towards the long line at the ice rink.

 

He’s like Bambi on ice. Quite literally. Mats has a death grip on the side of the rink as he skates in jagged movements, frowning (but mostly scowling) at children half his age gliding around the ice as though they’re naturals. Thomas is skating better (but not greatly) beside him, arms shoved deep in his coat pockets as he watches Mats with an amused grin twitching at the corners of his lips. Mats’ knuckles are white as he stops completely, gripping the sides and taking a deep breath as he feels his skates slipping.

 

“This was a mistake.” Mats admits, his voice wavering. “I can’t skate. Why did you let me do this?” Mats asks accusingly, glaring at Thomas who just holds his hands up in defence.

 

“I did this to shut you up!” Thomas exclaims, arms thrown out wide – narrowly missing the teenager skating past at the same moment. “I did this because I’m the _best_ friend that you’ll ever have and _also_ I want to see you fall on your ass.”

 

“ _Asshole_.” Mats huffs.

 

Thomas manages to coax Mats away from the wall, wrapping his hand around Mats’ arm and dragging him slowly across the ice. Mats stumbles and swears loudly but Thomas manages to keep him upright (for the most part). Thomas’ hand falls from Mats arm when his head shoots up and he catches the eyes of someone who is not his ridiculously-unbalanced best friend. Mats tries to grasp Thomas’ arm again but Thomas is already skating away leaving Mats to slip, slide and stumble in every direction as he frantically tries to grab hold of something.

 

It happens in a blur.

 

Mats spins and skates forward as smoothly as he can before he collides with something hard. The object in question spins around with wide eyes and a surprised glimmer in his eyes as he tries to reach for Mats but he can’t quite grab his jacket in time and Mats falls backwards with a loud thump, banging his head against the side of the ice rink before hitting the ice completely.

 

“ _Jesus fucking Christ Mats_.”

 

Mats hears Thomas’ voice but it’s the face of _goddamn_ angel he sees – maybe that’s the concussion talking – but whoever they are they’re glancing down at Mats with a look of upmost nervous concern on his face as he lifts a hand to press against Mats’ forehead causing a searing pain to shoot through his head.

 

The blood from the cut at his hairline trickles down his face and small dots of it hits Mats’ hand and he shoots upright at the realization that he’s managed to cut his fucking head open. Mats regrets it the minute he moves and before he realizes both Thomas, the guy Mats is (pretty) sure tried to stop him from falling are pushing him back against the side and holding him so he doesn’t move again. The woman kneeling down opposite him has kind eyes as she examines the cut on his head. She asks his name but Mats just shakes his head, kicking at Thomas’ foot for him to answer because Mats doesn’t think he can say anything loud enough for anybody to hear.  

 

“ _How_ the fuck did you manage to cut your head open, idiot?” Thomas asks and despite the sarcasm and the insulting tone – his undertone is nervous and shaky as he glances at Mats with scrutinizing eyes.

 

“You _ditched_ me.” Mats musters up as much edge to his voice as he can (which isn’t a lot because he feels a little lightheaded).

 

Mats doesn’t register much after that, the blood is still covering his fingers as he is helped back to his feet and led out of the ice rink through a side gate. Thomas is holding most of his weight whilst somebody else is holding gauze to his head, pressing down firm.

 

Mats _sees_ him out of the corner of his eye and he’s fucking beautiful. Blond hair falls loosely across his forehead from underneath the blue beanie on his head, he’s watching Mats carefully, well-aware that Mats is staring at him as though he’s a foreign creature. Mats almost whimpers when he catches the freckles scattered across his cheeks and nose; they’re prominent in the bright, flashing lights from above the ice rink, the streetlights too.

 

The small medical centre is at the far end of the markets, hidden away but despite being (almost) completely out of it, the smell of the antiseptic is in the air as they approach and it causes Mats to feel nauseous – well – more nauseous than he already feels (which is a lot).

 

“ _Oh my god_.” Thomas murmurs softly as he paces around the medical centre, his palm pressed to his forehead. “Your mum is going to _murder_ me… She’s still mad that I nearly broke you last year – _Jesus Christ_.”

 

Mats blinks rapidly and glances up at Thomas through his eyelashes before reaching out and gripping the material of Thomas’ coat bringing his best friend to an abrupt stop.

 

“Stop fucking pacing, you’re giving me a headache.”

 

Thomas scowls and crosses his arms over his chest but stays silent and stationary as Mats tries to numb the searing pain in the back of his head. He mumbles out a string of incoherent words before slumping in the uncomfortable plastic chair and dropping his head to the shoulder of the stranger who is still holding gauze to his head even though Mats is pretty sure the bleeding has stopped.

 

**

 

Mats _loves_ his best friend, it may not seem like it but he does but Mats sits and wonders whether it’s worth it when the nurse with a warm smile and blonde hair tells him that he’s going to need stitches and Thomas, throwing his hands up in despair announces he’s leaving because _I can’t watch this shit_.

 

“Is there - _uh_ – anybody else?” The nurse asks, a little awkwardly.

 

Mats’ eyes shoot over to the blond standing in the corner of the small, cramped cubicle they’re in with a pleading glimmer in his eyes. Mats feels pathetic. He’s technically an adult; he _should not_ still be absurdly terrified of needles.

 

Mats is staring down at the blood that’s staining the cuff of his coat when he feels rather than sees a hand pulling at his left hand and intertwining their fingers. The heat rises up Mats’ neck immediately and he’s sure there is a dusting of pink gracing his cheekbones as the nurse smiles at the pair of them warmly before retreating behind the curtain to get ready to give Mats stitches.

 

“I don’t know your-”

 

“- _Benedikt_ but my mum is the only one who stills me that. Bene or Benni is fine.”

 

 _Benedikt_. The name sits on the tip of Mats’ tongue and he can feel the tips of his ears reddening – a stark contrast to how his face visibly pales once the nurse returns and Mats catches sight of the needle between her fingers.

 

Mats believes his hatred towards needles started when he was three or four and needed to have an injection following a nasty accident playing in his garden and the nurse back then promised him that it wouldn’t hurt and he wouldn’t feel a thing if he just concentrated on her – _well_ – Mats did concentrate on her but the needle still hurt like a fucking bitch so he built up a fear towards the wretched things.

 

Bene notices and wordlessly runs his thumb across Mats’ knuckles; the contact causes Mats to jump at first having not expected it but he soon relaxes and focuses fully on how calloused and warm Bene’s fingers feel against his freezing cold hand. Out of the corner of his eye; Mats can see the needle being prepared and he automatically whimpers as the panic flashes through his eyes.

 

He _doesn’t quite_ know how Bene manages to catch the panic-stricken expression that crosses Mats’ face for barely a second but before he can bring himself to think about it, Bene is standing beside him and talking a mile a minute about something Mats didn’t catch but watching the way that Bene’s eyes flicker between Mats and the nurse behind him – something in the back of Mats’ mind tells him that he’s not supposed to completely understand what’s being said. Mats screws his eyes shut and just listens to Bene’s voice as he realizes he could most definitely listen to Bene read a fucking dictionary and still find it somewhat endearing. Mats keeps his eyes screwed shut so tightly throughout his wound being stitched, too scared to open his eyes in case he faints. Bene’s voice slows down until he’s barely speaking above a whisper, until he stops talking completely and Mats is sure he’s imagining it but he could swear that he feels lips against his hand.

 

Mats doesn’t necessarily register the stitching happening, mainly because he’s so focused on the feel of Bene’s hand in his, that, and how he wants to punch Thomas for abandoning him when he’s possibly concussed. 

 

“All done.” The nurse announces cheerfully. “You should thank your boyfriend for distracting you so well. I could see you were anxious. I’ll be back in a little while.”

 

Neither Mats or Bene correct her.

 

They’re silent for the few minutes between the nurse cleaning up before leaving the two of them alone. Mats’ gaze falls on their still joined hands and how Bene isn’t making a move to detangle their fingers _and_ how Mats really doesn’t want him to.

 

“Thank you – for _you know_ , staying here because my best friend is an asshole and is probably going to find the guy he’s been obsessed with for the last two weeks.” Mats mumbles, rolling his eyes at _that_ being exactly what Thomas is doing.

 

“I don’t mind being here.” Bene shrugs as he jumps up onto the bed beside Mats. “Believe it _or_ not but being here is better than listening to _my_ best friend constantly talking about this guy he’s spoken to _twice_ , _maybe_?” Bene laughs and Mats’ chest twists at the sound of Bene’s laughter. “I swear – you would think they’re soulmates with the way he talks about him. I’m pretty sure it’s love at first sight – for _him_ anyway.”

 

“This guy is the only reason I left my flat today, Thomas – he bribed me with beer to come here with him so he could find this guy. He’s obsessed, it’s ridiculous.” Mats huffs.

 

Bene smiles. “What if they’re each other? _My_ best friend being obsessed with yours and vice versa?”

 

“Doubtful.” Mats shoots back, nudging Bene’s shoulder before dropping his head to the blond’s shoulder.

 

**

 

Mats is in the process of telling a Bene a story of the toaster disaster of two years ago when the curtain is thrown open and Thomas rushes in, breathing a sigh of relief when he notices that Mats’ wound is covered up. Thomas edges closer and scrutinizes his best friend quietly, poking at his forehead until Mats can swat his hand away.

 

“Fuck off, Mull, you’re going to make my headache worse.” Mats groans as he grabs Thomas’ hand and pushes his arm away completely.

 

It lasts two seconds before Thomas lifts his arm back up and is prodding at the dressing covering Mats’ head wound once again.

 

“I’ll fucking kill you.” Mats growls through gritted teeth.

 

“ _Okay_.” Thomas shrugs as he drops his arm back down to his side because Mats’ threat to kill him is something he’s used to – after all, Thomas is the _most_ annoying best friend at times. “Can you kill me _after_ my date though?”

 

Mats’ eyes fly wide as he glares at Thomas, ready to jump into a rolling bitter monologue about him ditching him to go and get a date when the curtain moves slightly, attracting everybody’s attention as Thomas’ face lights up as he stretches out his hand to link his fingers with that of a blond.

 

“Hey Manu.” Bene greets causing Mats to whip himself around – only worsening his headache to find Bene smirking back at him mouthing _I told you so_.

 

“ _Great_.” Mats mutters as he looks between Bene, Thomas and _Manu_. “I get fucking concussion and you get a date. _How the hell is that fair_?”

 

Thomas and Mats start to bicker amongst themselves about the fairness of this particular Saturday evening when the nurse reappears and cuts through the noise to announce that Mats can leave but not before relaying some directions and contact numbers. Something heavy hits the pit of Mats’ stomach when he turns around to find Bene already looking at him, somewhat expressionless.

 

“Mull – _uh_ – I’ll be out in a minute.” Mats coughs and scratches the back of his neck awkwardly.

 

Thomas looks at him as though he wants to say something but he just nods and allows Manu to lead him outside. Mats turns back to Bene who has his hands in his pockets and is completely fascinated by the floor all of a sudden.

 

“You doubted me.” Bene breaks the silence in a mildly amused voice. “I feel like I’ll be telling you I told you so more often.”

 

“I’m going to see you again?!” Mats doesn’t even try to hide the excitement in his tone.

 

Bene glances up and meets Mats’ eyes with a fond gaze. “If you want?”

 

“I mean – our best friends are going on a date so I have a _feeling_ we might be seeing more of each other anyway.” Mats shrugs, bouncing from foot to foot. “Unless they break up horrifically and I will not hesitate to cut you out of my life completely out of loyalty.”

 

“Noted.” Bene laughs.

 

Mats watches him quietly, he notices the way that Bene’s cheeks are flushed and he’s nervously glancing around and trying to avoid Mats’ eyes but he’s doing a terrible job and can’t stop himself from stealing a glance – only grinning when his eyes catch Mats’. Mats thinks it could be the possible (probable) concussion talking but they’re both still waiting here for _something_ and if this backfires – Mats at least has his concussion excuse to fall back on.

 

“Benni?”

 

Bene hums as he meets Mats’ eyes once again.

 

“Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?” Mats asks, wincing as he braces himself for the possible rejection and complete embarrassment that will come hand-in-hand with that.

 

“ _Yeah_. Yeah, I do.” Bene breathes out in a small, shaky laugh.

 

Mats doesn’t need any more confirmation than that and steps forward, lifting his hands to rest his palms against Bene’s cheeks. _Holy fuck_. Mats can’t stop staring at the freckles that are littering Bene’s cheeks and he finds himself automatically trying to count them as if he had all of the time in the world.

 

“Will you just fucking kiss me?” Bene mumbles out the question, his lips so close to Mats’.

 

_Mats doesn’t need to be asked twice._

 

**

 

( _Precisely four weeks (and six Manu and Thomas dates) later; Mats and Bene finally go on their first date. Mats’ concussion and wound have healed nicely and he panics as he bounces around his room listening to Thomas’ loud cackling at his nervous behaviour. Mats resists the urge to turn around and launch one of his shoes at his best friend’s head (just) and instead finishes getting ready._

 

_Bene arrives at midday and Mats hesitates whilst wondering whether he should greet him with a kiss, a hug, a fist bump or a wave that is as awkward as he feels. In the end, he doesn’t have to worry, Bene kisses him immediately._

 

_Bene doesn’t explicitly tell Mats where they’re having their first date and Mats groans in frustration at being kept in the dark – in the end, Bene’s amused smirk should have given the game away immediately._

 

_“You have to be kidding me?” Mats asks, gaping at Bene as they stop in front of the ice rink._

 

_“I like ice skating.” Bene shrugs as he spins around and tugs Mats close, wrapping his free arm around Mats’ waist and holding him close. “I promise to keep hold of your hand.”_

 

_Mats scowls but sighs. “I swear to god if I end up with another concussion-”_

 

_“- You won’t.” Bene promises with a quick chaste kiss._

 

 _Mats doesn’t end up with concussion but he does end up with a boyfriend_.)

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](https://hoewedeshummels.tumblr.com)


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